


Over You

by Mizzswan



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mary had a kid and she's hiding it from our boy, Romance, angsty goodness, hidden child, i dont know what this is, just go with it okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzswan/pseuds/Mizzswan
Summary: After their divorce, Mary moves away for a few years in the hopes of never seeing Francis again.Spoiler alert, she does and she has a big secret.
Relationships: Mary Queen of Scots/Francis de Valois (Reign)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 45





	1. Mondays

She sits at the long table in the lawyer's office and tries to focus on anything other than the fact that he is late.  _ Again _ . He doesn't want to do this, she knows, but he has left her with no other option. She left him already, she hasn't lived with him for over a year now, it’s better this way. She thinks it is at least, her brain pushes forward the memory of his body pressed to hers only a few weeks prior and she begins to think maybe it isn’t. Then she remembers.

The ticking of the clock grows louder.  _ Tik Tok. _

She remembers finding him in someone else's arms.

_ Tik. _

Seeing limbs tangled with limbs.

_ Tik. _

He looked so shocked when she came in. She remembers running until her lungs hurt that day.

_ Tik. _

Sometimes it still feels like that.

Someone sits in the chair next to her and she shifts as her mind is brought back to the present. 

“How nice of you to join us,” Mary says, keeping her voice flat and emotionless, he shifts next to her.

“Yeah.” Is all Francis says before leaning back in his chair. “We need to talk later.” He whispers as their lawyer walks in. Mary is beginning to think that she was too early and they weren't actually late, but…

“No.” The last time he said that they met up and he had her in his bed within a few minutes, she won't be making that mistake again. The outright no must shock him because he looks at her like he’s hurt but still confused and he doesn't say anything else before the man in the suit takes over.

The process is long, they’ve met like this a million times now. She barely listens as the man talks about what happens after this. Their signatures merely mean they’re consenting to have their marriage ended, the documents will go forward once they're signed to a courthouse where a divorce judge will look at them. After that, once he signs them, they’ll get a confirmation letter in the mail that their marriage has been dissolved.

“Has a judge ever...not signed?” Mary asks softly and Francis straightens. 

“It’s very rare.”

“What happens if they don't?” They can’t just be forced to remain married. That’s how people end up on a  _ Murder Mysteries _ podcast. 

“You have to go to the courthouse the judge presides over and plead your case in person.” 

“Or we could just stay married,” Francis says a little exasperated, he’s only giving her this because he feels terrible about what happened. He still loves her; apparently. She still loves him too, deep down somewhere under the pain and humiliation, somewhere under all the hate, she still loves him.

“I’d rather be drawn and quartered.” She mutters instead of agreeing, she doesn't even look at him anymore. 

Once the papers have been signed, she doesn't speak to Francis as she leaves and heads over to her car. The long stretch of pavement feels as though it gets longer with each step. 

“Mary!” Francis calls and she halts but doesn't turn around. She swallows hard as she hears him walk up to her but he stops short of reaching her. “Can we please talk?” She turns around with a heavy sigh.

“What?”

“I…”

“What, Francis?” She doesn't have time for whatever this is, he doesn't say anything, which is when she starts to pull her keys out of her bag. 

“I want to start over.” He says quickly, on a rush of air, like he’s been sitting on the suggestion for such a long time, “Now that...that we aren’t-”

“Start over?”

“Yes.” He says, “After we...I wanted to ask you then, I wanted to tell you that I missed you but I knew you didn't want to hear it and...I was hoping after some time had passed that you would be open to-”

“To being friends?” She asks with an arch of her brow and a scoff on her lips, “Are you kidding me?” 

“Mary-”

“Francis, this isn't some...stupid, childish, argument. I didn’t divorce you in hopes of new beginnings. I...I don't  _ want  _ to be with  _ you _ .” She snaps, “You slept with someone else.”

“I know-”

“You slept with someone else.” She says again, “And not just...anyone, someone I worked with.” She shakes her head, “I had to quit because everyone kept...whispering about it, watching me and waiting for me to break. I walked in on you with someone in our bed, naked, all tangled up like a sweaty jig-saw puzzle and  _ you  _ want to be friends? Are you  _ fucking  _ kidding me?” She pauses before she says it, but then it’s falling out of her mouth like a broken song. 

“I hate you.” She says, “I never want to see you again. I hope that the rest of your life is enthralled by misery and loneliness and I hope that no one is ever stupid enough to fall in love with you. Look what happened to me. You broke me.” 

Francis doesn't say anything else, he just looks at her and then he looks at the pavement, he watches her car pull away and out of the lot and that is the last time she sees him.

A week later she gets the letter in the mail that her marriage had successfully ended. Greer helps her with the last of her boxes.

“I don't understand why you have to move so far away.”

“I don't want to be here,” Mary tells her, she can't risk running into Francis again, the off chance that he does catch her alone. He’s so good with words, so good at making her feel less angry than she is. She’ll be back to considering another try at being with him, forgiving him.

Greer hums over the popping of a quark and Mary finds her in the kitchen pouring two glasses.

“Celebrating your new lease on life.” She smiles as she hands Mary a glass of white wine. She clinks her glass against Greers but she doesn't drink it. The girl makes a face as she brings her own cup to her lips. “Celebration means drinking.”

“Greer-”

“Come on, it’s not like you’re pregnant.” Greer giggles but it’s Mary’s sigh that does her in. She sets her glass down, eyes widening. 

“Life’s a bitch, isn't it?” Mary whispers. 

She and Francis tried for a long time, so long that she thought they couldn't. She’s been pregnant before, maybe that loss and the desperate attempts to just keep trying, maybe it strained their relationship a little bit. She wasn't Mary anymore, he wasn't Francis, it’s like they were strangers living in the same house.

And now look at them.

Divorced and expecting.

Moving in with her mother had been the plan all along, she wanted to get away, her mother lived a considerable amount of time away. A four-hour plane ride and an explanation and her mom welcomed her with open arms.

_ -/- _

_ Four Years Later _

_ - _

She jogs every morning, it’s just something to keep herself busy and in shape. 

“I’ll be back in an hour!” She calls from downstairs, “Make sure you-”

“Give her the pink one, I know!” The male voice shouts back and she shakes her head as she starts to pull her headphones out of her pocket. The faint sound of feet hitting stairs makes her pause.

“We’re still on for later?” Gideon asks as he pulls open the fridge. 

"Of course." She smiles a small smile as she shoves one earbud in her ear and turns towards the door.

Running takes her mind off, well,  _ everything. _ She doesn't have to think when she's jogging up the street, feet hitting the pavement at a steady pace; one foot after the other.

It's October, but the sun is still scorching despite the early morning, it would only get hotter as the day goes on. She misses the quiet town she used to live, the cold chill of early morning, the fog that accompanied the autumn season. The rain and how it would come down in buckets some days and a cool, quiet drizzle the next. She misses the changing of the leaves, the colors, how calm and serene it used to be. Here, it seems as though the seasons never change, just a constant and neverending summer. She even misses the snow. 

She misses her friends, she's seen so little of them since she left. Kenna tries to keep her updated and Greer has written a letter or two.  _ How medieval _ , she used to joke but Greer never really liked using her phone, she was an old soul and thought texting was too...modern or something. Her letters have become less frequent since she married a few months ago. It was a private wedding, just the bride and groom in attendance, so small and simple; so Greer. She sent pictures of the ceremony, the signed marriage contract framed on her fireplace mantle. 

Lola seems to be the only one who seems to try and call once a week. She even flew to Mary to visit for a few days, if it wasn't for that, she would have thought the girls had just forgotten about Mary. 

Her music is interrupted and she comes to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk when her phone rings from her pocket. 

"What?" She asks when she presses it to her ear. 

"Your mother is here and she's demanding to speak to you," Gideon tells her and he sounds irritated, or bored. She can never really tell what he's thinking; not the way she could always tell what Francis was thinking. Just the thought of him brings a sting to her chest.

She met Gideon at a conference nearly three years ago now, he was interested right away, Mary on the other hand. She found his interest annoying, irritating, it had only been a year since her divorce and she wasn't ready to move on. Thoughts of Francis still plagued every crevice of her mind, she wondered how he was doing, if he was with someone if he thought about her as much as she thought of him.

She gave Gideon so many chances to run and he never did and after two years, he finally convinced her to move in with him and his daughter. It's normal, simple, it's easier than she thought it would be to be with him. 

He loves her and...she had learned to love him.

"What does she want?" Mary asks as she turns on the sidewalk and starts a slow trackback to her house.

"I have no idea."

"Did you ask her?"

"Yes."

"She didn't tell you?" She asks

"Would I have said I had no idea if she had told me?" He asks dryly but she can hear the amused smirk and Mary shakes her head. 

"I'll be there in a minute." She tells him with a roll of her eyes. "Just pry what you can out of her."

Her mother sits at the kitchen table when Mary walks in, looking satisfied.

"This couldn't wait until later?" Mary asks with a quirk of her brow, watching her mother tuck a strand of her brown curls behind her ear with an amused little grin.

"Did I interrupt?"

"Did something happen?" Her chest tightens a bit at the thought. But she knows Anne is safe with Gideon, and if anything happened to Agatha-

"I just received something interesting in the mail today, do you want to know what it is?"

"Another subscription?"

"An invitation." Marie De'Guise smiles as she rises from the chair and crosses the small kitchen. She pulls a card out of her pocket and Mary takes it with a confused look. 

_ The Unveiling Of Catherine De Medici's Art Gallery _ .

A black-tie affair, as it should be, Catherine wasn't anything but luxurious. Mary quirks a brow as she hands it back. Good for Catherine, art was something she was passionate about and she finally did it.

"Lovely," Mary says simply as she walks over to the fridge and grabs a water bottle.

"Yes." Her mother says, "Especially since you're going." The fridge door slams.

"Ha!" She should laugh at the absurdity of that suggestion, it's ridiculous, to say the least. Mary hasn't been back since she left the first time, why on earth-

"Mary, come on." Her mother makes a face like she's annoyed with her daughter for being outright against the idea, "It's addressed to  _ both  _ of us." She taps the card with one long red nail as though she expects it to change her mind.

"And you will give Catherine my best when you go."

" _ You _ will give Catherine  _ your  _ best when  _ we  _ go."

"Mom, I-"

"You're always complaining about how much you miss your friends and this is your chance to see them." She says that's not the point. The last thing Mary wants to do is engage in awkward small talk with her  _ ex-husbands  _ family at her  _ ex-mother-in-laws  _ gallery opening. 

Especially considering the very large secret she's been keeping from them all. 

"Francis-"

"Stop," Mary says quickly, something she always stops when she mentions him. Her mother had gotten better at avoiding the topic, but sometimes…

Her mother liked Francis, she liked him more than Gideon, he always treated her with respect, he was kind when he didn't need to be. She was so hopeful for a reconciliation, she even tried to get Mary to tell him…

"A talk with him may do some good." 

"It's a little late for that-"

"Yes, about four years too late." Her mother says dryly with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Doesn't mean it can't happen."

"I don't want it to happen."

"Mary." Her mother is serious now, "You're going."

_ -/- _

The hospital lights flicker as she walks down the long hall towards the room the girl practically lives in. She was okay for a few months, even came home, and then a few weeks ago, the cancer grew and started to attack her lungs and now…

"Mary." Agatha smiles a small smile when Mary walks in, Gideon helps her sit up, her tiny body is too weak to do it on its own.

"Hey," Mary smiles too as she crosses the room, "How are you feeling today?" She asks softly. 

"Better." She whispers as she moves over on the bed, allowing Mary to climb in too. She lays her head on her chest and she combs her fingers through the young girls' dark hair. She's paler today than she was yesterday and she'll ask Gideon when she's asleep if she's eaten anything today.

"Well, I hope this will make you feel even better," Mary says with a little more enthusiasm as she reaches for the gift bag she brought and pulls out a heavy book.

A book of Jane Austen's finest. Agatha loves to read, not the normal material most ten-year-olds go for. No, she likes the classics. Romance. Adventure.

Agatha smiles as she runs her fingers over the cover, "Can you read it to me later?"

"I will."

"Okay." She whispers as she curls into Mary's body, seeking out the warmth. The medicine makes her cold, that's what she told them, her body lacks the necessary energy to regulate her own body temperature.

The chemotherapy worked for a while, but the doctors aren't sure if it will again. Agatha is fast asleep soon after that.

"They said her uh...tests were better today," Gideon whispers as he watches the heart monitor.

"That's good, right?" They speak in hushed voices, soft whispers, "She's getting better."

"I hope."

"That's all we can do." All they can do is hold onto any scrap of hope there is; any semblance of a light at the end of this long tunnel.

"She asked about her mother today," Gideon says that so softly Mary barely hears it. He never talked about his first wife, she died so soon after Agatha was born, to the same cancer.

The universe is often cruel, she thinks. 

"Oh?"

"She wanted to know if she would see her in heaven." Gideon sighs heavily at that as he starts to pace and Mary's heart sinks. This isn't fair. This is so unfair, so cold. 

"Gideon…" she doesn't know what to say or do, how to even begin to explain to him how sorry she is that this is happening. She reaches her hand out, weaving her fingers through the spaces between his. She hopes it offers him some semblance of comfort but she can't tell. It's quiet for a long time and then he sighs.

"When is your little gallery thing?" He asks.

"Saturday." Just four days away, she's leaving a few days early so that she and her mother can find a hotel to stay in, use the free time to catch up with some people. She hopes that she won't run into Francis, but that seems too likely to do, she just has to grit her teeth and bear it. 

"Are you taking Anne?" She hadn't thought about it, it probably wouldn't be a very good idea, but she can't  _ expect  _ Gideon to be able to watch her, with everything going on with his daughter. So, she shrugs. 

"I can...watch her while you're away." He says, "If that's okay." 

"Gideon, you've known her since she was barely two, you're practically her-" she stops herself, he isn't her father. That's part of his reservation, he knows one day Anne will want to know who is. 

"She adores you," Mary says instead with a small smile. "Are you okay with me going?"

"I'm not pleased that you'll be gone for four days, that you'll be spending an evening with your exes family...but, I can't tell you not to go that's your call."

"My mother is not allowing me to say no." She says softly on a sigh, "Believe me I'd rather stay here."

Packing proves to be difficult with a toddler who just keeps pulling the clothes she puts in her bag, back out. 

"Anne." Mary scolds with a smile as she pulls a sweater out of the little girl's fingers. "I have to leave tomorrow," she explains. 

"Where?"

"Just somewhere with Grammy," Mary says softly as she folds her sweater again and sets it in her suitcase. She sits on the edge of the bed with a sigh and combs her fingers through the small girl's hair.

She was so worried she was going to have his blonde hair, but she has Mary's dark brown and his soft curls. She looks more like Francis than Mary, and she supposes that's her punishment for never telling him. She has to see him when she looks at Anne, she has to see his smile and his light blue eyes and his nose. 

She's only three and Mary's pretty sure she got his brain too, the little thing is too smart for her own good.

"Can I go?" Anne looks at her with hopeful eyes and as much as she wants to say yes, she shakes her head reluctantly. She's never left her this long before and knowing that puts an ache in her chest. 

"I wish you could, love." Mary smiles a small smile, "But I'll call every day, it'll be like I'm still here."

_ -/- _

She thinks about taking Anne with her when she goes into her room early the morning they're supposed to leave. She's sleeping deeply and the kiss Mary presses to her forehead makes her stir but not enough to wake. She almost wishes she does wake, knowing when she does she'll probably look for her. 

She looks like Francis the most when she sleeps. 

"Mary!" Her mother calls for her from the living room where she stands with Gideon. 

"I'm coming," Mary says softly as she closes Anne's bedroom door with a click and takes her bags from Gideons waiting fingers. 

"Call me when you land." He tells her as he kisses her cheek.

"I should wake her and say bye-"

"If you wake her, you won't leave." Gideon smiles fondly, "She'll be fine."

"Yes, Mary, she'll be fine." Her mother tries a reassuring tone but it just comes out impatient, "Let's get going before we miss our flight." 

She doubts they will, they don't have to be there for a few hours at least, but she allows herself to be hurried out the door nonetheless. 

The sun is barely in the sky when she clicks her seatbelt in place and looks out the small window of the plane. It’s been a while since she’s flown, but she doesn't believe that’s why her stomach is tying in knots right now. She gives her mother a strange look as she watches the woman fix her makeup with a small compact mirror in her hand on a plane.

“What are you doing?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“I want to look good when we land.” She hums and then she snaps it shut as she turns towards Mary, she makes a face now too but it’s mostly sympathetic and pitiful as she turns Mary’s head back in her direction.

“We need to do something about those dark circles.”

“Mom-”   
“You look sickly, dear.” She says, “You’re too pretty to look ten seconds away from the grave.”

“I’m tired,” Mary mutters as she jerks her head away from her mother's prying fingers with a scowl. “I just want to get this weekend over with and go home to my daughter.”

“And Gideon.” It’s said in a dry tone and she shakes her head, “I don’t know what you see in him.”

“He’s nice.”

“He’s old enough to be-”   
“He isn't.” Mary rolls her eyes, “he’s only seven years older.”

“That’s gross.”

“It’s really not-”

“Fine.” Her mother concedes, “How is his daughter?”

“Still sick.” She says softly, “She probably doesn't have much longer.” Her mother may not like Gideon that much but she’s not a monster, she wouldn't wish what he’s going through on her worst enemy. She likes Agatha, she treats her like she’s her granddaughter, loves her enough to put up with Mary being with a man she doesn't approve of. 

“Well, I hope it turns around.”

“Me too.” She’s quiet after that and they get the announcement that the plane will be leaving soon. Every movement of the plane makes her stomach turn more and more but she tries to swallow it down and focus on the objective.

Just don't run into Francis and everything should be fine.


	2. City Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of infant loss.

It seems like years before they touch down in the small town just outside of Seattle. The pavement is still wet with rain from this morning, it won't have long to dry, she can already feel the moisture in the air. It will rain again soon. 

"It's a bit chilly, isn't it?" Her mother comments as she steps out of the plane. Mary tightens her jacket around her body, but going from ninety-degree weather and sunshine every day, to clouds and rain in a matter of hours; it does very little. She shivers against the small breeze.

"I should call Gideon," Mary says softly when they get to the hotel. Her mother got them two rooms, adjoined, she doesn't know why the woman just didn't get one room with two beds. 

"Let him sleep, Mary."

"He asked me to call after we landed."

"He probably didn't mean immediately." She says with a sigh. "Besides, he's been at the hospital a lot, he hasn't had any sleep. And once Anne finds that you're gone; he won't get any."

"I should have just brought her with me," Mary mutters as she sets her bags down on the bed and runs a hand through the tangled strands of hair on her head. The plane ride really did a number on her hair it seems.

"We'll need to find you a gown for Saturday." 

"I thought you already had one," Mary says with a quirk of her brow. She swears her mother already had one picked and ordered for her to wear. Mary didn't bother finding one or even looking, in all honesty, she was planning on wearing something casual. She doesn't intend on staying long. 

"I had one in mind but it wouldn't do any harm to look at some." She hums, "You could get the girls together and look for yourself. It wouldn't kill you to catch up a bit."

Do they know she's in town, that she's _ back? _ She can't remember if she told them, this week has been a blur.

"Go on then, give them a call." Her mother hums as she gathers her own luggage and retreats to her own room.

_ -/- _

"How are you not freezing?" Mary asks over the chattering of her teeth as they walk, she should have brought a heavier coat, this is terrible. She wouldn't be surprised if it started snowing. Kenna shakes her head as she positions herself in front of Mary and zips her jacket up more, running her hands over her leather clad arms and sighing.

"You're just not used to the weather." Kenna hums as she adjusts Mary's jacket so that it's tighter around her body. Kenna is only wearing a white sweater, tight because...it's Kenna and when has she ever been known to wear loose fit clothing, and a dark pair of jeans.

No jacket because the woman is a lunatic and her light brown hair falls in soft curls around her shoulders and down her back. 

"There, better?" She asks when she's finished bundling Mary up like a child. 

"No." She mutters as she shivers. 

"You'll get used to it," Kenna says as she returns to Mary's side, linking their elbows as they continue on with their slow walk down the busy street. "You used to live here, remember?"

"Don't start."

"I'm not starting anything." She pouts, "I know why you had to leave. It took me so long to stop being enraged at the sight of-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We're not talking about it."

"Kenna-"

"If it's any consolation he didn't fare well after he realized you actually left."

"Kenna, please."

"I don't think he left the house for months."

"Please-"

"Bash had to practically drag him out." Kenna continues with a sigh. "But he seems to be over it now. Or less...open about it. I don't know, I don't see him much you know, just sometimes...we run into each other."

"Okay. Good for you."

"It's probably good that I don't see him...what with the uh-" her voice dips into a low whisper, "Secret baby." Mary glares at her friend. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Lovely."

"Although maybe...it wouldn't be the end of the world if you-"

"No.," Mary says quickly. 

"Why?"

"I don't want to?"

"It's adorable that you think that's a good enough reason." Kenna coos as she leans her head on Mary's shoulder. 

"It would be too complicated." Telling him now, it would be catastrophic, she would have to tell his giant family for one and Catherine would surely spontaneously combust at the news that she has a secret grandchild. And there's no telling how Francis would react? Would he try to take her to court, he would rightfully be furious that she kept it from him for so long. 

It could potentially hurt Anne in the long run and she doesn't want that. She doesn't have time to say anything because Kenna stops abruptly and in one quick swoop, she shoves Mary into the alley they were passing, narrowly missing a brick wall and mouthing hide before turning back. 

"Hey, handsome." Kenna smiles, all flirty charm at the approaching shadow. She hears a car door and the rustling of a bag and then she hears it.

Or rather, him. 

"Kenna, it's a bit early for you isn't it?" Francis teases as the door shuts. Mary crouches behind a dumpster.

_ A fucking dumpster. _

"Early bird catches the worm and whatnot." Kenna laughs. 

"I guess." He says, "What are you doing?"

"Can't go for a walk?" Kenna asks, "It's called fresh air, look it up."

"Says the girl who sleeps until it's dark."

"Only sometimes."

"All the time."

"I did not come here to be lectured." Kenna shifts her eyes towards Mary's hiding spot, pleased to find she doesn't spot Mary. 

"Would you like a ride home?" 

"Aha, no." She says quickly, "No." She says it more calmly. 

"You're acting strange."

"I'm not."

"Why do you keep looking over there?"

"Because." She says, "Nice seeing you blondie, but I gotta run." She says as she starts to walk past him.

"Bye Kenna," Francis says with a bit of a laugh and then she hears the car door open again and an engine start. Kenna doesn't turn back until the car turns a corner and then she's jogging back to Mary's hiding spot with a sputter of apologies falling out of her mouth.

"I thought he'd be at work, I really didn't think we'd run into him, oh my god did I shove you too hard?" She's brushing the dirt off of Mary's jeans as she helps her stand.

"I'm fine, Kenna." Mary says softly as she steps back, "Just...wasn't expecting to run into him so..."

"Yeah." 

"And for him to seem so..."  _ Fine _ . Unbothered. Content.

"Oh he looked delicious but that's not the point," Kenna says quickly as they retreat back to the sidewalk. 

"Let's not make that a regular thing."

"You got it," Kenna says with a heavy sigh.

Greer and Lola are already at the dressing place when they walk in.

"Sorry, we're late, ran into Francis," Kenna announces when they find her other friends by the door.

"Oh, Mary are you okay?" Lola asks with a sympathetic expression.

"He didn't see me." She says softly, "Kenna shoved me behind a dumpster."

"Is that what that smell is?" Greer asks with a wrinkle of her nose and Mary rolls her eyes.

_ -/- _

"I can't believe Catherine invited you," Greer says as Mary shoves herself into another dress. 

"I thought she forgot I existed." She says from behind the fitting room door, "Or I hoped she had at least."

"It wasn't your fault the marriage ended." Not entirely the truth but she doesn't say anything. She just zips the dress up and adjusts it in the mirror. 

"How is Anne?" Lola asks after a few seconds of silence. 

"She's good. She's talking more." And she is starting preschool soon, which is terrifying and bittersweet. Mary can't believe she's old enough to even be looking.

"Okay," Mary says after a little more adjusting and she pulls the curtain back before stepping out. "Is this fancy enough?" It's just a plain black dress, long and form-fitting, a halter neckline that leaves her arms and shoulders exposed.

"You gotta turn around," Kenna says with a little twirl of her finger.

"I didn't come here to be objectified."

"Then you shouldn't have brought me." Kenna fake whispers and gestures for her to do a spin. So she does.

"Ooooooh, girl, do you have that thing insured?" Kenna asks and it sends the rest of them into a laughing fit while Mary covers her red face with her hands. 

"That- I- why are you like this?" She asks after the laughter dies down, "I can't take you anywhere."

"I'm sorry you just look so good. Are you seeing anyone?"

"Stoooooppp!"

"Hey baby, does that ass come with a warranty?"

" _ Kenna! _ " More laughter. Mary shakes her head and retreats back to the dressing room.

"It should definitely come with a warning label!" She yells so Mary can hear her. 

"I think you look pretty." Greer tries a tamer compliment than Kenna. 

"Yeah, you look amazing," Lola adds. 

"Thanks," Mary says in a dry tone, but she appreciates it. And Kenna's... _ compliments _ surely helped in her decision making as she zips the dress in a bag and carries it out of the store. 

_ -/- _

They don't run into Francis again after that. Not today anyway and once Mary has some time alone, she takes a taxi to the place she's been wanting to go since she got here.

The small cemetery is just outside of town, next to an old playground that has been abandoned for so long, everything is wrapped in a thick sheet of rusted paint. There's caution tape around it to keep people off and it always did give her the creeps. 

The swings move gently in the steady breeze. 

The cemetery is always shrouded in a light fog, no matter the weather, and today the fog seems heavier. She sees a crowd of people as she walks through, all in black huddled around a casket in the back. It's too far away for her to disturb them but she tries to walk a little lighter anyway. 

She reaches the large oak tree towards the back corner, over the slight slope hill until she reaches it.

She's done this a million times but it still sends shockwaves through her body every time.

The last time she was here the grass hadn't fully taken over yet, there was still a little dirt over the hole in the ground. The little stone is clean like it's been well taken care of and there's a small garden statue of a baby angel with a stuffed blue teddy bear tied to it. She remembers it was the one she had in his crib, that she left there for months. In her grief it seemed rational, it seemed logical, to have something in his crib. Instead of it being empty. 

"I'm sorry it's been so long since I've visited." She says softly, "I had to go away for a little while." She sits on the grass, toys with the ribbon around the bears neck as she swallows hard, "I hope that you know it...it wasn't because of you, the thought of leaving you...it almost killed me." She knows that there won't be an answer but she talks anyways, she talks about where she lives, Gideon, she talks about Anne.

She wonders if Francis still comes out here. If he visits. He used to, they used to visit together every Thursday at three. He never missed a day. Well, one time his car broke down and she didn't talk to him for weeks because of it. 

She wonders if he still comes here every Thursday at three. 

She has some of his ashes, it's in a locket that's locked in a jewelry box, she only gets it out on his birthday. Sometimes when the grief hits her out of nowhere she digs it out and she holds it to her chest like that'll somehow make the waves hit less.

"I love you so so much." She says softly, "I really do..." 

She remembers that day like it was yesterday, it's still so fresh in her brain she can't imagine that she'll ever truly forget. All the blood and the pain and how she knew it was happening but Francis tried to reassure her that it was fine, he was fine. 

She remembers having to sign a death certificate and a birth certificate on the same day, how she barely got to hold him before they took him. The way Francis tried to shield her from the preparations, how lightly he tiptoed around the word funeral and cremation like he knew it would undo her. 

It started and ended so quickly she barely had time to process it. 

They tried again a few months after but it didn't happen again for them. The doctors said it might never happen for them. That she wouldn't get pregnant and on the off chance that she did, it was unlikely she would carry to term.

That was the beginning of the end for them, she completely shut Francis out, she blamed herself and she took her self hatred out on him. And then Olivia happened.

So it wasn't all his fault. She had already taken her side of the blame.

"Does daddy ever come to see you?" She whispers, "Did he put these toys here?" She asks, there's a few little baby toys at the foot of the stone. She's surprised the wind hadn't blown them away. 

She sits for what feels like hours, just talking to nothing, and no one. Every car she hears, she thinks it's going to be Francis but it isn't. She's glad, she doesn't want to run into him here. She can't imagine that would go well and there's a funeral service going on, she wouldn't want to cause a scene. Eventually, she gathers herself enough to stand and leave without looking back.

_ -/- _

"How's-"

"Anne's asleep. It was a bit rough once she realized you weren't here." Gideon says softly and he seems tired, more so than usual. "But she was fine after a few hours."

"I should have swallowed my pride and brought her." 

"We're fine, Mary." He reassures her as he runs a hand over his face.

"And Agatha?"

"No notable changes..." He says but she can see that something did happen, even if he isn't outright saying it. He probably doesn't want to worry her, but she's worried all the time. 

"What happened?" 

"She just had a bad night."

"Her lungs?" 

"They have her on oxygen at the moment, but I don't know...there isn't much else they can do without a transplant." She's been on the list for a few years now, with no luck. It doesn't help that she's near the bottom, but hopefully, now she gets bumped up a few slots. 

"I'm sorry, I wish I was there to help," Mary says softly as she shifts in bed. Gideon shakes his head, tells her all she would do is be waiting right along with him, but she can't help but think that he shouldn't be alone right now. 

And taking care of her daughter on top of it all seems unnecessary. 

"Keep me updated." 

"Always." He says with a tired sigh, "I'll call you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep."

"You get some sleep." 

"I'll do my best." He laughs, "I love you."

"Love you too." She hits the end call button after a second and sets her phone on the nightstand. It's not that late, but her mother already turned in and she figured she probably should too.

Tomorrow is the big day and she goes to bed with her stomach twisting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys this was an angsty one.   
> I'm open to suggestions, I'm just writing this as we go, I don't have much planned. :)


	3. You

Wearing this gown makes her feel as though she's heading to a funeral, instead of some high-end party. With her ex-husbands family in attendance. Hosted by her former mother in law. 

What can go wrong?

"You look nervous." Her mother comments as she tosses her phone in her purse, the click of her heels sounding too loud on the hardwood floor of their hotel room. 

"I was trying to be subtle," Mary mutters as she takes in her mother's choice of attire. A barely modest dark green gown. It hugs every part of her, sleeveless, and a slightly plunging neckline. Her hair is down for once, dark brown hair curling down her back. 

"Are you ready?"

"No."

"Well, hurry up darling. We'll be late." Her mother says as she adjusts Mary's hair, sweeping a strand that escaped the pinned updo. 

"It's too late to feign an illness isn't it?" 

"Far too late." She smiles a small smile, "Mary. It'll be alright. You're overthinking it, turn off your phone and try to have fun."

"You understand where we're going, right?"

"Catherine wouldn't have invited us if she didn't want us there." That may be true but it doesn't untwist her stomach. 

She turns off her phone and allows her mother to lead her out of the room without giving herself time to change her mind.

The venue is modern outside but on the inside, it looks like something out of a renaissance painting. High arching ceilings, marbled columns, every inch of the walls has some features painting by Catherine herself.

She doesn't see anyone she recognizes, but then again how can she? The place is filled with people in tuxes and evening gowns, drinking and laughing and she feels so far out of her element she may as well be invisible. 

"Mary?" The questioning voice sounds familiar but it's deeper, more...manly and she spins in time to see someone she thinks is Charles but she can't be sure.

" _ Charles _ ?" She questions with a gasp, "oh my god." She smiles when he does and he steps closer to her.

"I wasn't expecting to see you."

"The last time I saw you, you were barely tall enough to reach my chest and now look at you." She breathes. It really has been a long time, hasn't it? He's nearly a foot taller than her. His dark hair is longer, his face has lost its boyish roundness, his shoulders are broader. He looks more like a grown man than a scrawny boy. 

"Puberty." He says with a sly smirk and a shrug. "I can't believe you're here. I thought we'd never see you again..." he sounds a little sad and she feels the tinge of guilt hit her chest. She didn't think about what her decision to leave so abruptly would do to the children she had grown accustomed to calling her siblings. 

"I..."

"You don't have to explain, Mary." He reassures her softly, "I get it." 

"I- Still, I should have said goodbye. I left impulsively, it wasn't fair."

"No hard feelings." Charles smiles at her after saying that like he knows that it'll make her feel better and she walks with him as they talk. He tells her about his new school, he's seventeen now, almost eighteen, he tells her about his other siblings. How Claude got her degree in psychology a year ago, Leeza recently got married, Margot just started middle school, and little Herc is in fifth grade. The little kids aren't here, they're at home with the nanny. 

"And Henri?" 

"He just started his sophomore year." Mary nods along. Henri was always a troublesome kid, being in high school now likely added fuel to that fire. Apparently, he gets in a lot of fights.

Charles leaves out Francis, maybe because he hasn't exactly been productive, or to spare her feelings. 

"Where is your mother?" She asks after a while and he shrugs.

"Probably chatting somewhere." 

"I'd like to see her before I leave."

"You're not staying?" He seems disappointed at that, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It wouldn't...be a good idea..."

"Oh..."

"I...the last thing I want is to cause trouble here." She adds softly, "but..." digs a pen and steals a napkin from a table to use as a pad and jots down her number, "Here."

She won't leave as impulsively this time.

_ -/- _

She doesn't see Catherine until much later, she stays in the back, nursing a glass of champagne from earlier in the evening and she wants nothing more than to leave. She hasn't spotted Francis, she isn't even sure if he's here. 

"Mary!" Catherine beams as she breaks away from Mary's mother in time to wrap her arms tightly around her body. 

"Hey..." it's not the welcome she was expecting but she'll take this.

"Oh, it's been so long." She smiles as she pulls back, "I thought for sure you wouldn't come."

She doesn't tell her she wasn't planning on it.

"I wouldn't miss it." She smiles and swallows hard, "I wanted to see you before I left..."

"You can't leave." Catherine says softly, "No, no, my dear you have to stay."

"I-"

"Mary." She says sternly, "It's been  _ literal  _ years." She has her on that and Mary nods with a sigh. 

"How are you?" Catherine asks as they walk through the halls, empty and away from the crowds of people. Mary shrugs.

"I'm okay. You?"

"I'm great," Catherine says softly. "We miss you around here. The kids, especially the littles, were so attached to you and you vanished."

They go outside away from the crowd and they walk together by the pond, the fountain in the middle is loud and Catherine links her arm with Mary. It's strange, the way she's acting. She thought for sure Catherine would harbor some hostility, but she's warm and kind and maybe the years changed her.

"The exhibit is beautiful," Mary says softly to fill the silence.

"Thank you." She smiles with a sigh. It's quiet again and she wonders if Catherine thinks this is awkward too, or if she's just blissfully unaware that Mary is verging on a meltdown. 

"You can calm down, darling, Francis isn't here." She says finally.

"He isn't?"

"He isn't." She says again, "He won't be here until later."

"Oh..."

"You sound relieved."

"Is it bad if I am?" 

"It's understandable." She says softly, "Have you spoken to him at all since you left?"

"No." She tells her. The thought occurred to her to reach out, but she thought that would open too many doors that she would rather remain shut. And locked. 

Perhaps even chained. 

"He misses you."

"Is this the part where you tell me to give him another chance?"

"Do you want to give him another chance?" Mary suppresses a laugh and she shakes her head.

"You and my mother...are  _ relentless _ ." She says softly, "I have a boyfriend."

"Oh."

"He's...great. He has a daughter."

"How old is she?"

"She's ten." She says softly, "And so sweet." 

"Well," Catherine sighs, "You got the family you always wanted then." There's some slight hostility in the tone, but there's also warmth like she's happy for her underneath it all. 

"Agatha has cancer." She says softly, "It's pretty progressed and advanced. We're not sure how much time she has."

"And you're here instead of there?" Catherine looks at her in disbelief. "You didn't have to-"

"My mother wouldn't take no for an answer. Besides, if anything happens, it wouldn't be difficult to get a flight home." They walk in silence a little bit longer, then Catherine fills her in on more things. What she's doing besides running her new gallery. After her failed attempt at running for office a few years ago, she's decided to turn her knowledge of politics into something more fruitful. She teaches classes at a university.

Mary opens her mouth to say that she thinks it's a good idea for her, a good opportunity for Catherine. But.

"Mom, there you are." Says the voice, "I've been looking all o-" The  _ O  _ is ended abruptly on a breath when they turn around, Catherine's grip on Mary's arm tightening slightly when she tenses. 

"Mary?" The way he says her name is small, barely even audible and she tears her eyes away from him to look at the grass.

"Francis, I was expecting you until much later," Catherine says simply.

"I got done early..." He's still looking at Mary and she doesn't look up. 

"Well," Catherine says with a click of her tongue against her teeth. "Mary," she says softly and she looks up only to look at her ex-mother in law. "I'm going to head inside now. It was good to see you, let's have lunch sometime, yeah?"

"Sure." She thought that in her leaving, the woman would take Francis with her, she didn't. She just brushes past him with a small smile and heads back inside. The silence the ensues is... _ suffocating _ .

"I should go too," Mary says softly around a hard swallow.

"I didn't know that you would be here," Francis says softly and he's staring at her so intently like he's forgotten what she looked like over the years and he's reminding himself. 

"I was hoping you wouldn't be." She says after a while, tightening her coat around her body with a heavy sigh. She looks at him now, tentatively at least. She isn't entirely sure if her words hurt him or he's just hiding it. Either way, it takes him a second to respond.

"How are you?" He asks and she scoffs.

"It's been four years and the only thing you have to say is, how are you?"

"Isn't that how normal people start a conversation?"

"We're not normal, Francis." 

"We can't talk?"

"How's Olivia?" She asks suddenly, angry she hadn't felt in so long starts to bubble up to the surface and no matter how much she tries to swallow it down, it still feels as though she's choking. 

His face does something then that she wasn't expecting, its surprise, confusion, it's slightly sad and she opens her mouth but-

"You don't know?" He asks softly.

"Know what?"

"She's dead, Mary." The words are soft, breathy like it hurts to even say it. "Two years ago now, a car accident. I...I figured someone told you."

"Olivia is dead?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh." She breathes and then swallows and then...she shakes her head, "Sorry for your loss." The words are genuine.

"It wasn't my loss." He says with a shrug. "I hadn't talked to her...not since you left."

"Still...she was your...friend."

"For a little while..." he says softly, "But you didn't answer my question." 

"I'm fine, Francis." She says softly, the smallest hint of a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. "And you?"

"Fine."

"Good."

"I suppose." He says with a small smile and good god he looks like Anne, or Anne looks like him she should say. She has to look away. "Mary, I-"

"I can't." She says quickly when he steps forward, "I'm sorry." Her phone is ringing now, vibrating in her purse and she sees that she has four missed calls from Gideon and a text that urges her to please call him. Her stomach twists.

"I...have to..." she says softly, slowly realizing she doesn't need to explain herself to him at all. 

"Mary, wait." 

"No, I have to take this now." She says sternly but before she does, she has one question so she turns back around. 

"Francis, do you still...do you still see him?" She asks softly and it takes him a minute but he nods.

"Every Thursday at three." He says softly and for some reason, that loosens the knots in her stomach a tiny bit, "Go. Before your phone explodes."

Getting to the taxi isn't difficult, the icy rain seems to be her problem. She calls Gideon back when she's in the car, leaving her mom behind. She'll be fine.

"What happened?" She asks when he answers in a voice that doesn't belong to him. "Gideon?" 

"It's Agatha...you need to come back." He says with a raw throat like he's been crying, and her heart sinks. She tells the cab driver to redirect to the airport. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it’s been a hot minute. I’ve been dealing with some things, a recent passing; an unexpected shocking thing.  
> I don’t want to go into too much detail about what happened, but I will say that if you ever need anything, or you feel like you can’t go on. You can message me and vent if you need to, my DM’s on Tumblr is always open, It’s Mizzswan.tumblr.com so. Yeah. Please, talk to someone, do not suffer in silence.  
> Just needed a break for a little while. Updates may be spacey, I may not be back again for another month, if not longer. It depends. I hope everyone is doing well, taking care of yourself, and being as happy as you can be.  
> Til next time. :)
> 
> P.S. Still taking suggestions so if you have any, leave them in the comments/reviews!!


	4. Lo Vas a Olvidar Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Child death

_ Six Years Ago _

_. _

The nursery is dark and quiet and cold. She doesn't hear his footsteps approaching, she doesn't see his cautious frame from her place on the floor. She faces the crib that remains empty. That will always be empty. Maybe forever. 

"Mary," Francis flicks on the light and she squints as she curls further in on herself. "You can't keep sleeping in here…" she doesn't say anything, just stares into nothing. Francis sighs as he closes the door and he leaves her alone, as he has the last two months. She's always alone.

Alone and so very empty. 

_ -/- _

Kenna got her out today, if only for a moment if it wasn't for her persistent pestering, she wouldn't have gone but she takes her out for lunch and she doesn't push as Mary picks at her food; the bags under her eyes are as heavy as Kenna's shopping bags.

"I know better than to ask how you are." Kenna says softly, "Francis tells me you've been sleeping on the floor in the nursery." 

Mary swallows hard.

"He says you hardly leave it…" 

"It...he shouldn't have told you that."

"He's only worried about you," Kenna says softly like that's supposed to make her feel better. Mary shakes her head. "He just wants to help."

"And telling people how I grieve is supposed to help me, how?"

"Mary-" 

"I want to go home." She says as she stands quickly, "Take me home." 

"I-"

" _ Now _ . I wanna go now." She snaps and Kenna rises like she's been struck by lightning, tossing a wad of bills down without bothering to count it, linking her arm with Mary and they start the quick descent towards the parking lot where Kenna parked her car. It feels so far away, the walk feels so long. But they get there and soon they're pulling into her driveway, behind Francis's car and she wonders why he's home so early. Kenna doesn't get out when she does, but she gets out like she remembers something and then she's chasing after Mary, saying something about needing to go back because she forgot something at the restaurant but Mary just wants to go inside.

"Mary." Francis looks startled when she comes crashing through the door and he's shouting at her wait as she races up the stairs. "Mary, wait-  _ wait _ ." She doesn't turn around, she just throws open the door.

The nursery.

The nursery is  _ empty  _ and all the air leaves her lungs. 

Francis is right behind her, staring at her with quiet apologies as she walks to the middle of the room feeling very much like she just got hit by a train. 

"Francis…" she whispers, "Where's…"

"I thought…I thought it was too much for you to see it every day...the constant reminder…"

"So you...got rid of it…" She feels like her bones are breaking, "Where's the crib?" She whispers, "And the toys...the rocking chair?" 

"Mary-" 

"Where is it?" She asks as she spins on her heels, "Where...Where is it?!" 

"I-"

"Where is it?" She steps closer to him with fire in her eyes, "Give it back." She snaps and then she shoves him when he shakes his head and starts to say something that sounds like a no, "Give it back!" She shouts it over and over as he reaches. She shouts it again and again until the  _ it _ , turns into  _ him.  _

And then she's screaming and screaming and screaming. 

_ -/- _

_ Now _

_. _

"Gideon." Mary searches the house for him but she can't seem to find him and she notices the mess in the kitchen, the flowers in vases that are shattered on the tiled floor. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. Her mother should be arriving from the airport soon, but neither one of them have the energy to clean it up. 

She supposed her mother will have to deal with it. 

"I...I don't know why I did that." Gideon's voice is hoarse as he staggers out of a dark hallway. He's still wearing the clothes he wore at the hospital, three days ago. 

"It's alright." Mary says softly, "Why don't you try and take a shower before the minister gets here?" She suggests cautiously, "Or sleep a bit?"

"I don't want to sleep."

"You need rest…" she says softly as he approaches him, he pulls away when she reaches, a firm shake of his head leaves his dark curls even messier. 

"I need my daughter." He says on a snap. She steps back with a swallow, picking at her nail bed. 

"I know...but-"

"She's gone."

"Yes…" Mary whispers as she casts her eyes down to the floor. Agatha died two days ago, so quickly, like she blinked and she was gone. 

"Greer flew in yesterday, she'll be watching Anne...unless you think she should go…"

"A funeral is no place for a toddler. It's not even a place for a child. And yet it's a child's funeral, how  _ fucked  _ up is that?" Gideon says in a rush of air, words running together and Mary isn't really sure what to say to that. He's pacing now, quick sharp steps on the kitchen tile, looking every bit the grieving parent that he is.

"Gideon...I know this is…this is painful-" 

"Painful?" He snaps, "Mary this is  _ agony! _ " 

"I know-"

"Do you?!" He shouts it as he looks at her like he wants to rip her apart. "I'm burying my child. My  _ child _ . My little girl who...I was just holding her as a baby and now I am burying her, how could you possibly understand how this feels?" It isn't his fault she never told him, it isn't his fault she never explained exactly what led her and Francis to get a divorce. It doesn't make it hurt less, it knocks the wind out of her and she stumbles back with a hard swallow. 

"I'm just trying to help." She whispers.

"Yeah…" He shakes his head, "Well, I'm sorry but I don't think that you can." With that he leaves the kitchen the same way he entered it, slow and drained. Like he's half alive and she doesn't know what to do. Mary waits until she hears the door open and then slams shut to sink to the floor in a puddle of tears. 

_ -/-  _

"You know my mother is going to kill you if you walk into her house with mud all over your shoes," Francis says as he walks with Bash up the stone path towards the front door. 

"Which is why I'm removing them." He smirks as he pulls one boot off and then the other, setting them aside and then sighing. 

"What were you even doing?" Bash is a mess, covered in dirt, he wonders why the man didn't just shower before he picked him up. Bash just shrugs as Francis turns the knob and they step inside. 

"I forgot to ask how the uh...art gallery thing went." Bash is saying as they walk, "I heard a certain someone was in attendance."

"A lot of people were in attendance, you will have to be more specific." Bash gives him a look and Francis rolls his eyes, "Okay, yes. She was there."

"Did you talk to her?" 

"She didn't seem…in the mood to speak." He can't blame her, after what he did to her. Seeing him probably brought up a lot of emotions, it brought up a lot in him as well. He is a constant reminder of what she lost, what they lost, but all he could think about was how beautiful she looked in her evening gown and how the missing he smashed down for so long seemed to swell up in his chest once more. 

He wonders if she missed him as much as he misses her, but he reminds himself over and over again that she let him go a long time ago and he has to live with that. 

She has a new life now, with  _ Gideon _ , the man who swooped in when she was broken and helped her heal. She must love him dearly, deeply, maybe even more than she loved Francis. She isn't his anymore, she belongs to someone else now, someone else gets to hold her and touch her and make her forget all of the terrible things he did to her. 

"I...no I understand." Francis's mother is on the phone with someone, speaking softly as they walk up the hall towards the dining room and he squints at the sound of her voice. He's never heard his mother speak so…softly, warmly, and sympathetic. 

"If there is anything you may need…" she pauses again, "Mary...is she alright?" That gets both and Francis and Bash's attention, both heads snapping up at Catherine. "My god…" she sighs heavily. 

"Mom?" Francis questions, but the woman just shakes her head, gesturing for him to step back, to leave her to handle whatever this is. But if there is something wrong with Mary, he is desperate to know. 

"When is the funeral?" 

" _ Funeral _ !?" Francis asks loudly, did she just use Mary in the same sentence as a funeral? Why did she ask if Mary was okay and then ask when the funeral was in the same breath?

"Marie, if you need anything at all-" 

"Is that her mother?" Francis asks, "What's going on-"

"Francis let her-" 

"Is Mary okay?" He shouts the question and Bash is also tense beside him. His mother simply shakes her head as she says her goodbyes and hangs up the phone. "Mother-"

"Mary is alive." Is the first thing she says and the mental images of a wrecked plane and Mary in a casket fades from his mind, if only for a moment but something is wrong. 

"Then what is going on?"

"Her...boyfriend...his daughter died." Catherine tells him, "The night of the opening, when she left so suddenly, it was because there were complications with Agatha."

"When did she…"

"The girl was dead before the plane touched ground." His mother says softly, "I do not know how close she was to her...but, her mother says that she treated Agatha as though she were her own child so." He knows from experience that Mary will not handle this well. 

"I have to...I should...go see her." Francis says softly, Bash is already shaking his head. "No, I know her, I know…what this will feel like I should be there for her. I…"

"Francis, that is a very bad idea." Bash says quickly, "You showing up on her doorstep is not what she needs right now." 

"She needs-"

"Time." His mother finishes for him, "Bash is right, my dear," her voice drops into something warm and sweet, caring, "Seeing you will only make it  _ worse. _ " She says as she cups his face and he pulls himself away from her with a scoff.

"If it...pains you so much. I will go." She says after a moment.

"What?"

"The last thing Mary needs is her ex-husband showing up at her current boyfriend's daughter's funeral." 

"Mom-" 

"Francis, process that sentence before you argue any further," Bash says with a shake of his head. 

"And think about what that would do to you." His mother says softly, "Going to a  _ child's  _ funeral. Even if it was one you never knew, it could take you back to memories you want to forget. Things you moved on from. Mary is facing that right now-"

"Which is why I should-"

"There is nothing you can do for her." It's said more on a snap than anything else, "You are no longer her husband."

"Must you keep reminding me-"

"I will keep reminding you until you forget this ridiculous fantasy of somehow winning her back." His mother snaps and Bash shifts awkwardly at the back of the room. "What do you think will happen if you go to this funeral if you approach her at this time? She'll embrace you? She'll come back. She  _ won't,  _ it will push her farther away."

"She needs to be with someone who understands-"

"Gideon understands." She says softly, "He may not have before but, oh he knows better than anyone now. She has him. They will grieve this tremendous loss together." Catherine sighs, "Something the two of you never really managed to do." She adds softly and he glared at her, that wasn't a fair statement and he feels his blood begin to boil. 

"Francis maybe we should-" Bash is cut off by the phone ringing but his mother doesn't move to pick it up. 

"She pushed me away!" He shouts

"And  _ you _ fell between the legs of someone else!" Catherine shouts back. The phone continues to ring. "I want nothing more than you to reconcile with her, but  _ this  _ is not the way to do it. Do not force that man to grieve for two people he loves." 

The phone rings again and again and when his mother doesn't move to answer it, Francis takes matters into his own hands, snatching it off the hook. 

"Francis-" His mother scolds, but it's too late.

"Medici residence."

"Catherine?" The voice is soft, sniffly, hoarse but he recognizes it instantly. 

"Mary…" His voice drops into something more sympathetic than the hateful tone he used with his mother two seconds before. 

"Give me the phone." His mother whispers.

"Mary, I just heard...are you…I'm so sorry." She's quiet but he can hear her breaking on the other end. 

"I…"

"Mary?"

"Francis." She whispers, "Tell your mother to call me." She chokes, he hears her breathing clip on a sob and then the line goes dead. 

_ -/- _

Gideon hasn't talked to her much, not since that morning where he shouted at her. She understands completely why he did that, she isn't angry. She just wishes that he  _ knew _ . 

The funeral home is empty, aside from them. They had to be here first to make sure everything was in order. She's straightening a display of flowers when Gideon quietly walks in. He doesn't glance at her, he keeps his eyes on the casket. A white wood box, with a fancy silver trim. Her mother spared no expense. It's closed, they both thought that was best. He showered finally, even trimmed his hair a bit, but he looks hollow, ghostlike, pale. He doesn't look like Gideon, the years of hospital visits and ICU beds have caught up with him and he looks aged now. 

"Gideon." Mary approaches slowly, keeps a distance. "How about we go outside for a bit, get some air before everyone starts to arrive…"

"I don't want to leave her." He says softly, "but...thank you." He rests his hand on the lid of the casket and Mary takes a deep breath. 

She walks outside because she can't  _ breathe _ . She's never been to a child's funeral, her son was buried before she left the hospital, that's what the grief counselor said would be best. 

They were wrong, but how would Francis know that? 

She's practically hyperventilating, stomach twisting violently, her phone slips from her fingers and hits the pavement. It came out of nowhere, the pain from so many years ago, she didn't realize that this would break her as much as…

"Mary?" Her mother's feet pick up the pace as her heels click against, "Mary?! Hey, hey…" she's pressing her to her chest, smoothing her hair, shushing her softly. 

"I thought this would be easier…" she sobs, "Because we knew she was….she was so sick, mom…"

"I know…"

"It didn't come out of nowhere…and I thought it wouldn't feel like…" Like when she had to say goodbye to her baby. Who wasn't sick. "But it does it feels like that...it feels just like that…"

"I know…I know Mary…I'm so sorry sweety." 

She doesn't know how long they stand like that, how long her mother holds her for. The next thing she knows, she's sitting in a pew next to Gideon and the other guests, not listening to the guy speak. She doesn't think Gideon is thinking either. He just stares blankly ahead at the casket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, this chapter is very dark and I apologize for that. I also apologize for falling off the face of the earth. I hope everyone had a lovely holiday season, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, new year. What else have I missed? Got a whole new President for us U.S. people uh. Thank the Lord. 
> 
> Anyways, I...I'm sorry for being gone so long, as you know I was dealing with something very tragic. And if it wasn't for the kind messages being left for me; whether on here or on Tumblr, I probably wouldn't have come back. So thank you. 
> 
> Please, if you have any suggestions for this story, even the next chapter; leave them in a review or a comment. You can even message me on Tumblr. 
> 
> Take care. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. I'm open to suggestions if you guys have any!


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